Before We Were Us
by Thus Spake The Pancake
Summary: A sad Mokuba mopes about spending the holidays alone, until a sick Seto gives him an exceptionally powerful Christmas gift.


Before We Were Us

Snow was floating lazily down to earth, some of it sticking to Mokuba Kaiba's long back hair and red coat instead of bothering to travel the last few feet to the ground. The child shivered and crossed his arms across his chest as if to hold in the heat as he leaned against the railing of the bridge. He stared down at the glassy ice glossily glazing the surface of the creek, and heaved a long-suffering sigh.

The Christmas season was always the craziest time of the year for Kaiba Corp, and was especially hard on its president. Seto Kaiba was usually able to grit his teeth and keep it all together throughout all of the meetings, promotions, commercials, and endless round-the-clock phone calls from engineers when the overload of the systems at Kaiba Land inevitably caused the computers to crash. This year, on the other hand, Mokuba's big brother had come down with a pretty serious cold in the middle of the month, but continued to work as if nothing was wrong, causing him to ultimately end up with the flu, and sick in bed on Christmas Day.

Mokuba forced himself to be happy that Seto was finally taking the time to recover, but couldn't help but to hurt over the fact that he was spending yet another holiday all alone. The kid had everything any child would ever ask for-video games, books, and various other toys, but all he really wanted was his big brother to spend the day with him. It was a family day, and even though the Kaiba family wasn't exactly conventional, Mokuba loved the elder Kaiba as a brother, father, and friend.

He sighed and stepped away from the railing, then shuffled through the rest of the park. There were families ice skating on solid ponds, teenagers throwing snowballs at each other in the snowy fields, and even a young couple taking wedding photos under a large, bare tree. Mokuba watched in awe as the bride scattered scarlet rose petals around her and her new husband. He listened to an elderly man urge her to hurry up-it was cold and if she didn't put a jacket on over that dress, she'd catch a cold; or worse, the flu.

Mokuba wanted to jump in and inform him that she could easily get the flu even with a jacket-his big brother did-but he continued to hang back and survey the entire park, until the shadows got longer as dusk grew nearer. Then he brushed away the tears gathering in his eyes, and called for the limo.

Once he arrived home, he wriggled out of his coat and hung it up on a hook, then stomped his feet to shake off the icy crystals clinging to his jeans before pulling off his boots and tossing them onto a mat. He dragged himself up to his brother's bedroom; none of the house staff were allowed in Seto's personal space, and particularly not when he was feeling unwell, which was really when he needed the assistance-but who were they to change his stubborn mind? This was precisely why the roles were switched around and Mokuba took it upon himself to take care of the elder brother, something both brothers were forced to grudgingly accept.

It wasn't that Mokuba was against caring for his brother-in fact, he was more than happy to do so-but the badly festering feelings in his heart made him less compassionate about the whole thing.

He climbed onto Seto's bed and clambered over to his sleeping brother's side, listening to him breathe for a moment. It sounded like something between a light snore and a heavy wheeze. Mokuba brushed his hand across his brother's forehead and cheeks before rolling his eyes in exasperation. His brother had been running a fever for so long that there was no way Mokuba could even tell whether it was getting better or not just by means of touch; he had no choice but to wake his brother up and actually take his temperature. He snatched the thermometer off the stand beside the bed and shook Seto's shoulder.

"Seto, wake up," he said emotionlessly, and Seto rolled over from his side to his back before opening his eyes. "I need to check your temperature."

The elder brother wordlessly took the thermometer out of Mokuba's hand and placed it in his mouth for a few moments before Mokuba retrieved it; the instrument read a hundred and two degrees, so it was up a half a degree from before. He sighed and placed it to the side before sliding off the bed.

"Just remember to drink the rest of your water at some point," Mokuba told his brother, gesturing to the glass next to the thermometer before retreating to his own room, where he changed out of his still cold and slightly damp clothes and into a pair of his yellow-and-white checked pajamas. He crawled into his bed and curled up under his endless pile of blankets before turning on his TV. If he was going to spend the rest of the day by himself, he might as well be warm and comfortable. About an hour and a half later, a few soft knocks sounded on his door. Mokuba sat up and muted the television.

"Come in," he called, expecting it to be a housekeeper or the cook, so he was speechless when his brother stumbled weakly into his bedroom. Seto's sallow face accentuated the dark circles under his dull blue eyes; he looked as though walking down the hall had been the most exhausting feat of all time. His blue pajamas were wrinkled, and his bangs were edged in sweat. He was also holding a sleek rectangular package seamlessly wrapped in light blue paper.

"Here," he said, his raspy voice barely above a whisper as he approached Mokuba's bed. He sat down beside the child and placed the package into his hands. Mokuba stared at it blankly for a moment before speaking.

"Thanks. But you shouldn't be out of bed."

"Open it."

Mokuba stared at him questioningly for a moment, and then carefully removed the wrapping paper to reveal a white box. He opened it to find a photo album made of deep burnished leather, its pleasantly pungent scent filling his nostrils.

"Since when were you into putting photo albums together?"

"The only photos I added were the final two. The rest was Mom."

Mokuba froze; it was so peculiar hearing his brother say the word 'Mom.' Sometimes, Mokuba was sure he'd repressed the memories of their parents; after all, Seto never spoke of them. He gingerly flipped open the cover, and his eyes widened in shock when he saw a picture of a chocolate-haired toddler with gleaming blue eyes and a bright smile clinging to a man with black hair and glasses. The next picture showed the same child reading with a woman wearing a pink sundress and long, shiny brown hair, both surrounded by a sea of books. After that was a photo of him wearing gray pajamas spotted with little red fire trucks, passed out in front of a Christmas tree. Mokuba couldn't help laughing out loud at the thought that his stern, serious, and powerful big brother once wore fire truck-print pajamas.

"Want to know something about that picture?" Seto asked quietly, and Mokuba nodded. "I fell asleep in front of the tree trying to prove that there was no such thing as Santa, and that Mom and Dad were the ones who put the gifts there every year."

"How old were you?"

"Five," Seto responded with a faint smile, and Mokuba was overcome with a giggling fit for a few minutes before he quickly became serious, realizing what that meant.

"Mom was barely pregnant with me…that means this was her last Christmas…"

"Just keep going," Seto said gently, running a hand through Mokuba's hair. The child obliged, and flipped through many more photographs of his big brother as a small child, noting in the back of his mind how the woman seemed to gradually grow paler and weaker-looking, but that she never stopped smiling. The man also seemed to become weaker and appeared more exhausted. Finally, he reached a photograph of the woman in a hospital bed, smiling weakly as she cuddled a tiny infant bundled in light blue blankets; the only thing visible of the baby was a mess of thick black hair poking out. Mokuba dropped the album in shock, and tears began to cascade down his face.

"H-how long did she live after that?" Mokuba stammered, attempting and failing to wipe the tears away from his face. Seto picked up the album and remained silent for a moment as he tried to figure out how to answer that.

"Just a few minutes…but Mokuba, she got to hold you. She loved you. Look," he told Mokuba, pointing to the woman's face. "She was in unbearable pain, but you still made her smile."

Mokuba continued to sob until his brother drew him into an embrace and held him tightly for a long while. Once he'd calmed down enough to breathe properly, he took the album back and stared at the picture again. "I just wish we could have had a family portrait…the four of us."

Seto gently pulled the book out of Mokuba's hands and flipped to the next page. "I saved the best for last."

Mokuba drew in a sharp breath as he looked at the photograph. Their parents sat together on a sofa; Seto was snuggled up on their father's lap with his hand on their mother's heavily pregnant belly. Their mother's hand was also resting on her stomach, her fingers interlocked with Seto's. It was the greatest picture Mokuba could have ever asked for.

"You wouldn't stop kicking that day," Seto recalled, rubbing his little brother's back soothingly. "Dad thought you were going to break your way out a month early."

"Thank you, Seto," Mokuba said before bursting into tears again, and threw his arms roughly around his brother's neck. Seto coughed, and Mokuba immediately cringed; he'd momentarily forgotten how sick his brother was. "Sorry…I guess I should let you get back to bed."

Seto shook his bed. "No. You shouldn't be alone all day just because I don't take very good care of myself sometimes…if you don't mind the fact that I might fall asleep, would you object to me joining you for a movie?"

"Only if I can choose it, since you said you're going to sleep anyhow."

"Go for it," Seto responded, crawling under Mokuba's comforter as the kid scrambled over to his DVD tower and selected a movie. Once he'd popped it into the player, he burrowed back into his blankets beside his brother. Always a man of his word, Seto was sound asleep within twenty minutes of the movie, but Mokuba didn't care. His brother had given him the greatest gift ever, and had even given him a rare glimpse of life with their parents, when things were-at the very least-normal and happy. Mokuba moved over to plant a kiss on the elder brother's forehead before snuggling up and resting his head on Seto's shoulder to finish up the movie. Then he'd try to sleep, too.


End file.
